The Blood of Angry Men
by A Love Poet at Heart
Summary: Enjolras goes into transylvania woods and finds the castle of the great Graf Von Krolock. And he catches the eyes of the graf's son, Herbert


The Blood of Angry men

Enjolras pulled sharply back on the reins of his horse, making the horse barely miss a rock. The night had already fallen; its inky blackness coated everything around the blonde making it hard for him to see. He should have already been at the small village hours before, but he had made a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

Suddenly a wolf started to howl. More wolves joined in on the chorus, some sounded too close for comfort. Abruptly Enjolras' horse reared back, making the blonde man fall to the cold ground. A light coating of snow did nothing to help his fall. Enjolras jumped back, grabbed his small solo bag from the saddle and started to run. As he ran he could hear the horrible sounds coming back from where he left his horse.

Branches caught on his clothing and exposed skin. Small pinpricks of pain danced on his bare hands and face. He tried to brush away the branches, but to no avail. Unexpectedly Enjolras ran into a clearing in the forest. In the Darkness he could make out a castle not too far in the distance. He ran towards it.

He didn't see the rock in front of him and he tripped. He landed heavily in the snow. His cloth clothing got full of the bone white snow. But he popped back up as fast as he fell.

When he got to the gate he tried opening it. It wouldn't budge. He then looked at the bottom of the gate. He noticed the opening there was just big enough to maybe allow a human to crawl through. As he bent down to go through the opening, the gate suddenly opening.

"_Guten Abend, mein Herr,"_ a man dressed all in black stepped out in front of Enjolras said. _"Dieses Schloss gehört mir. Ich bin Graf von Krolock, und du sind?"_

"Um," Enjolras stuttered. He hadn't studied German since he was a little kid. _"Du sprechen sie Französisch?" _

"Ah, ein Franzose, oui, but not very gut, a bit rusty," the mysterious castle owner replied.

"I'm Enjolras. I got lost in the woods, I was suppose to arrive in a small village around here."

"Ah, ja, I know of it. Is very close."

"I lost my horse. I think wolves got to him. I heard them howling before I ran for it."

"You are very lucky, that horse saved your life. But I would not recommend going back out to that village, once they taste blut, you must beware. You can stay here for the nacht." Von Krolock moved behind Enjolras and slightly led him into his castle.

Inside the castle was cold, not as cold as outside, but still very cold. Enjolras shivered inside in slightly damp coat. A hunchback walked awkwardly towards them from a darken corridor.

"This is Koukol, my servant. He will show you to your…room," Krolock said with a charismatic grin. Enjolras looked closely at that grin. There was something off. But he just couldn't put his finger on it.

A voice came from the top of the stairs, _"Vater, wer ist das?" _it said. The voice belonged to a fair-haired blonde in a very flamboyant costume.

"Ein Franzose dessen verloren seinen weg, Herbert," the graf said to his son on the stairs. "This is my son, Hebert. He speaks better French than myself."

When Enjolras turned his head back to take another look at the count's son he was met with the fact that Herbert was now a feet away from his face.

"Bonsoir, mein freund," Herbert bowed, "I'm Herbert Von Krolock"

"Enjolras"

"Enchantée," Herbert said and kissed Enjolras' hand

Herbert was cold. Herbert's skin felt like ice when it made contact with Enjolras' flesh. Suddenly Enjolras realized what was off with this odd family.

"Vampires! You two are vampires!" Enjolras shouted and clutched his bag closer to himself.

"Ja, we are," The count said, "But you are safer in here that outside. I can fell from the coldness that snow is coming. And it is dark; you do not know the land. You can easily get lost, again"

Enjolras stared angrily at the Graf, for he was correct.

"Oh, Monsieur Enjolras, you're shivering!" Herbert gasped, "and your clothes are torn and soaking wet!"

Enjolras didn't darn turn his gaze from the elder von Krolock. "My trunk was shipped to the inn in town. I'm without a change of clothes but I'm fine."

"No you aren't. You can borrow something of mein. We look about the same." Herbert said with a smile.

The graf looked to his son, "Koukol will draw you a bath, too"

Before Enjolras could protest Koukol grabbed his bag and up the stairs. Enjolras gave one last glance to the Count and his son before following Koukol.

"Danke, vater. Vielen Danke" Herbert said, after Enjolras left, before hugging his father.

"Nichts zu danke, Herbert." Von Krolock replied.

Herbert then released his father and hurried up the stairs to his room.

Herbert knocked three times on Enjolras' door before entering.

"Herbert?" came from the closed door in the corner of the room.

"Ja, mon cheri."

"Just leave the clothes on the bed and thank you"

Herbert laid the clothes out on the bed like a mother would for a young child. Then Herbert softly walked closer to the and peered in through the small keyhole then smiled.


End file.
